Page 35 of Ace of Shadows
He turns to face me and his hair fluffs around his face, igniting a desire within me to run my hands through it. “Why wouldn’t I be?”
“What if my call triggers something? You’re a secret club and have all these cool tech things. You’re telling me there’s no danger in my taking a call?”
Ruslan snorts. “Aclub. We’re not a bunch of teenagers. Take the call. Just, y’know, if you value your safety, you won’t tell her anything you shouldn’t.”
My eyes narrow as I watch him head for the door. “What if I did?”
He pauses in the doorway and slowly turns toward me. “If we’re at the joking stage of what happened to you, then I would tell you another bout of torture would straighten you out. But if we’renot…” Trailing off, he shrugs one shoulder. “I have some things to tend to. Stay here.”
“I couldn’t leave even if I wanted to!” I call after him as he vanishes into the hallway.
Am I at the joking stage? I can’t tell. Some moments, it’s like everything is really far away in my past. My parents, the crash, the torture. Other moments, it’s like it all just happened an hour ago and my chest gets so tight I can’t breathe.
Maybe Ruslan is right.
The next time Moira calls, I answer.
“Ivy?” She screeches down the line at me. “Ivy, are you there? Is that you?”
“It’s me, Moira.”
“Ivy! Oh, my fucking God, girl. What does it take for you to answer the damn phone?”
“I’ve been… distracted.” Resting against a windowsill overlooking the city, I gaze through the slightly warped glass and track some birds drifting past.
“Distracted because you got arrested?”
“What?” My heart pulses suddenly in my chest and heat cascades through me from head to toe. “What are you talking about?”
“Don’t give me that! It’s all over the internet!”
“Moira… what are you talking about?”
“Ugh, hold on. Let me send it to you.” The clack of her nails against her phone screen is the only sound for a handful of seconds before her voice returns. “So tell me, girlie, are you alright? What the hell happened? I’ve been worried sick about you!”
Lowering my phone, I tap through to my messages and click the video Moira sent. It’s a phone recording from someone in the crowd when Ruslan and I were arrested outside the hospital. It never even crossed my mind that someone would film that when absolutely no one stepped in to help us.
“Ivy?” Moira’s small voice drags me out of repeatedly watching the footage. “Ivy, where did you go?”
“I’m here, sorry. I was watching the video.”
“People are going insane over the police brutality, but I recognized you immediately, and when I couldn’t get ahold of you and couldn’t get any information from those pigs, I found out your mom is in the hospital! Ivy, where the hell are you? What is happening?”
“I’m…” My attention darts back outside. “It’s not what you think.” I doubt she’d believe me if I told her the truth. “I know it looks bad.”
“Looks bad? Girl, the only good thing about that video was the hottie they threw in after you. You should see the hashtags about him.” She chuckles for a second, then her voice returns to a serious tone. “Seriously, Ivy. I’m scared for you. What’shappening?”
“I’m in police protection because of the plane crash. That’s all it is.”
“Police protection?” There’s not a single note of belief in her tone. “Everyone’s saying there’s some sort of cover-up going on there. Is that why you’re in hiding?”
“No, Moira. It’s not a cover-up. Honestly, it’s the insatiable press I’m hiding from. The plane crashed and it was terrible, and I know other survivors struggled so much that they… they took their own lives. That coupled with my mom getting—” My throat closes suddenly, and a strangled gasp escapes me as my mind floods with the image of her lying in that bed.
Her bruised and beaten face. Her cold, frail fingers.
“She was mugged,” I say hoarsely. “It’s all s-such terrible timing.”
“Mugged? Oh, my God, I’m moving out of New York,” Moira mutters. “This is insane.”
